


Maybe Isn't No

by Miri Cleo (miri_cleo)



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Missing Scene, No Sex, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miri_cleo/pseuds/Miri%20Cleo
Summary: "Roman Roy, perennial fuck up and most likely to get his fucking dick shot off in a hostage situation comes out alive and with a company saving solution, no less."
Relationships: Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Maybe Isn't No

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lizwontcry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwontcry/gifts).



He flopped onto Gerri's bed before really looking around the stateroom. Of course she had the nicest one next to anyone else in the family. Damn right she did. He starfished his arms and legs out and met Gerri's eyes as she looked down at him. 

"Good job staying alive."

"You know what, fuck you."

She sat down next to him and Roman rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to face her. 

"I mean it." Mom face. Not his actual mom's face because...gross. No, this was the hot, quasi-serious mom face that he one thousand percent got a hard on seeing from across a room. "Roman Roy, perennial fuck up and most likely to get his fucking dick shot off in a hostage situation comes out alive and with a company saving solution, no less."

"Oh, yeah, that shit's not happening." He flopped back onto his back. It wasn't that Roman wasn't proud of what he'd done. Because he'd been fucking awesome. He'd been better than fucking awesome. But he couldn't make horse shit into real money no matter how much he wanted to. And if getting it done meant fucking over Ken and Shiv in Logan's eyes, he abso-fucking-lutely wanted to. 

"Fuck." Gerri flopped down beside him. 

"Yeeeep." he blew out a long breath. 

"You wanna talk about it?"

"The fact that we're fucked or the fact that being held hostage was really fucking scary? Because...neither, really. Yeah, neither is really fucking good."

"Look at it this way: it's the kind of thing Logan can respect."

"Yay me." Roman waived one of his hands in the air half heartedly. "I won't be the sacrifice because I made a deal at gunpoint."

"Don't be a petulant little shit."

"Ooh, talk dirty to me." He cut his eyes over to her, but she wasn't even looking at him. Hot. 

"That's not what you want right now."

It was ironic that his dick was getting hard at the fact that she knew he was half-assing it. How the fuck did she know him like no one else did? She was practically part of his family at this point but she wasn't. And yet, she fucking knew what he _needed_ , which scared the shit out of Roman just as much as it fucking turned him on. 

"How the fuck do you know what I want right now?" he snapped, almost whining. 

"For starters, you've got your hands where I can see them."

"Bitch," he muttered without making any move to actually get his hands down his pants. She was right. While his dick was half hard and he could get there--if he wanted to--Roman just wanted the company. And everyone else on the goddamned boat was insufferable--even more so when they asked if he was okay or what it was like or made stupid fucking jokes about the whole thing. He'd probably been in a million and a half situations where he could have ended up dead, and most of them were of his own doing and involved drugs. Being in one that wasn't either of those things was… Well, he'd be a dipshit and a dickhead if he said it was life changing. But it was...something. And at least Gerri trusted he could fucking _be_ something.

"So, uh, what about that whole, you know, fucking, _thing_...that whole..tying the knot, ball and chain, whatever, fucking, thing?" He almost wanted to cover his eyes. 

"Rome, seriously?" She was rolling her fucking eyes and doing that thing with her lip where, like, one side of it kinda quirked up, and he hated that he knew that. Gross. Why did he know that? Maybe they really should get married. Weird. 

"Yeah, well, if shit hits the fucking fan, you're the one I don't want testifying against me or some shit. And I bring some prime shit to the table too."

She scoffed. God, he could listen to that all day. "Oh, yeah? Like?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm pretty fucking rich."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't give a fuck."

"Yeah." His dick twitched. "That's neat."

"Do you know how old I am?"

"I don't give a fuuuuck." He put his hands underneath his head and stretched his chest. "I do not have any fucking need to add any more Roys to the world. Pretty sure Ken's got that handled in the legit department and otherwise, and who the fuck knows whether Shiv even has a biologocal cock or whatever."

Roman stopped listening to himself talk for a second to think about whether he was really fucking serious. Was he? Yeah. Maybe? Yeah, he was fucking serious. Marriage was a fucking business arrangement at the heart of it, and it was a business nobody in his asshole family had been _really_ successful in--Tom and Shiv were pretty new but that was obviously a launch explosion waiting to happen. 

"Your father would certainly have thoughts about the arrangement," she said after a long pause. 

"Yeah, that's a pretty fucking lawyer way of saying he'd shit a brick," he said, a giggle bubbling up in his throat. They could just fucking do it--city hall or whatever the fuck people did and then announce it at one of Marcia's dinners. That shit show would be totally worth it. Or maybe Logan would see it as a power move and Gerri could already see that. Shit, he hadn't even thought that far ahead. Fuck. That would be pretty good too. Either way. 

"Maybe." Now she was doing that thing where she stuck her tongue in her cheek. Double fucking hot. 

"Maybe? Is that like a fucking...maybe means yes kind of thing."

"Maybe means maybe."

"Can we, like, do our fucking thing now because…" he gestered to his tented pants and waited with baited breath for the inevitable insult. Maybe wasn't no, and she was getting up to pour herself a drink. That wasn't no either.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to glassesofjustice for beta work.


End file.
